Draconis Angelicus
by ScarletSerpent
Summary: Chapter 3 up! Harry awakes to find himself well; Ron and Hermione are worried; Draco talks to Dumbledore. Dumbledore has a cool office! Please read and review! Future SLASH. HD in future...
1. The Talisman

Title: Draconis Angelicus Author: ScarletSerpent  
  
Disclaimer: All of Harry Potter belongs to the terribly brilliant J.K. Rowling. I would never be able to come up with such an amazing story on my own. It all belongs to her, she is my HERO!  
  
Rating: This is rated R for future chapters.  
  
Warnings: This, my friends, will be SLASH in the future. People, this means boylove. If you do not like that kind of thing, then this is not the story for you. Also there is warning of depression, which could get serious in future chapters. Again, this is all in future chapters.  
  
Summary: Harry is back at Hogwarts in his 6th year and he faces some of the most difficult challenges yet. He wakes up one night to another creature trying to sneak into his room. But, is this creature dangerous? And who is controlling it? Future SLASH. H/D in future. Please R&R!! Thank you so much!  
  
A cool mist gathered around the luminous castle, settling on each nook and cranny like an exquisite blanket. The trees of the Forbidden Forest shimmered, their branches hardly drooping with the light weight of the moisture. It sifted between the tightly packed trees, nestling to the ground beneath, shrouding various bushes and vines from sight. It sat there, a blanket of coldness, waiting in the darkness.  
As if on cue, a snake-like thread of moisture rose from the mist almost imperceptibly. The fine silvery snake curled upwards through the mists towards the uppermost towers of the castle. It twisted around the top of the Gryffindor Tower, the oddly warming coldness seeping into the crack between an old window frame and the glass inside. As more of the moisture made its way into the boys' dormitory the room became cold and silent.  
"I am here," Harry Potter turned in his sleep, hearing a voice whisper against his ear, it sounded so oddly familiar.  
Suddenly the mist began to turn and twist, a wind inside it violently breaking loose. A whirlwind of moisture quickly took form as it writhed to life. It whirled into a tight tunnel and the silvery beads began to take on the shape of a creature. As it came close to a recognizable shape, the whirlwind disappeared.  
Harry Potter sat up, his breath steady and controlled, his wand pointed where the figure has just been taking form. He looked at the now empty air in front of him and then down to the wet patch of the floor below it. As he lowered his wand to his side he noticed a small object shining in the moonlight streaming through the window. Studying it, he stood, stepping towards the object in the center of the puddle of moisture. Was it left behind by that thing? Was it a portkey? Harry shivered at the prospect, he didn't want a repeat of the Triwizard Tournament. But, if he didn't find out what it was then somebody in the dorm would undoubtedly find it later. Damn, leave it to Voldemort to know he would rather be killed than have someone else put at risk.  
He crouched down, wriggling his toes in the cold moisture beneath him. It looked perfectly harmless, a pearly white stone set in silver, a cold, gleaming chain wrapped beneath it almost carefully. It glowed, an iridescent white and as Harry turned his head to get a closer look he realized that it was changing. He stiffened, ready to attack if something were to happen. But, nothing happened, and as he gazed at the stone expectantly it glowed brightly, Harry was taken by the sight. It pulled him closer, and he thought he saw a flicker of a shape moving inside of it. The mists inside the stone faded and dulled, becoming a simple opal again. This time, however, there was something inside of the stone, barely covered by the misty opal of the stone: A Dragon.  
Harry pulled away from the stone, reeling backwards, his head hitting the bed. His mind spun as he closed his eyes, willing the object away. He cracked his eye open, wishing the floor was as bare and dry as usual. It was still there. Closing his eyes again he sighed, resting his head against the mattress behind him. This could not be happening. Objects of such obvious value do not just magically appear out of an obscure mist in the middle of the night, not even in the wizarding world.  
Why couldn't anything normal ever happen? He shoved his head into his hands, pulling at his face slightly in an attempt to wash away the strangeness he felt. Except that he didn't feel strange, he felt, comforted, like he wasn't alone. That couldn't be the right feeling, could it? He had just been nearly attacked in the middle of the night by a... er... a something. Well, he hadn't actually been attacked, but it was close enough, wasn't it? No, the thing hadn't even come close to him, it had stayed right there, in the middle of the room, not even remotely threateningly.  
He sighed, his position on the wooden floor was becoming uncomfortable. This was perplexing, but he needed to stretch, his muscles had become tense and cramped. He pulled himself forward, grabbing the wetted carpet to steady him. It felt better to extend his back from it's cramped position. He groped around the floor, his glasses had fallen off when he had pulled away from the opal. His fingers found something cold and metal, and even without his vision he knew what it was. Well, that ruled out the option of it being a portkey as he hadn't been transported. There was no familiar pull behind his navel, and he breathed out heavily, not even realizing he had been holding it.  
His fingers curled around the talisman, and he continued to fumble for his glasses. After a few moments he had found them, lying a couple of feet from the rapidly drying spot on the rug. It was colorless, and left no stain behind, and the rug was no longer cold. As he put on his glasses he felt the necklace, warm against his hand. It was warm. That was strange, it had been lying in a puddle of cold water just moments before. He must have been more tired than he thought.  
Having put his glasses on he pushed himself up and walked towards his bed. As he sat on the bed, he pulled the disheveled blankets from the floor onto the bed, pushing them into a heap. He pulled his legs up onto the bed, sitting cross-legged beside them. He fingered the talisman in his hand, turning it around in his hand unconsciously as he mulled over the events of the past hour. This was going to keep him up all night, he could tell. Oh well, it wasn't as if he ever got much sleep anyway. He prepared himself for a long night of contemplation, it most certainly would be a long one.  
He had no idea that someone else was preparing to do so at the same time, congratulating themselves on having gotten to the famous Harry Potter. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
By morning the mist had cleared, leaving the leaves and grass with a hint of dew, sparkling in the morning sun. The sunlight shone into the sixth year Gryffindor boys' dormitories, shining into the unopened eyes of the residents. They mumbled, waking to the brightness behind their closed eyelids. Harry snapped to attention at these waking sounds, the long period of wakefulness having temporarily dulled his senses. His hand closed around the necklace lying on his bed in front of him, pulling it up to his face. He looked at it one more time, and slipped it carefully around his neck. It would be easily hidden by his robes during class, but what about now? He wasn't about to take it off, it felt like a part of him now, he felt obligated to wear it.  
"Harry? Harry, mate, you awake?" Ron Weasley spoke groggily through the partition separating the two boys.  
"Yes Ron, I'm awake, just getting dressed now." Harry replied, deliberately making his voice sound thick and unfocused.  
Harry prepared for breakfast, it was the first month of school, but he had swung easily back into the throng of Hogwarts life. It was a continuous circle of getting up, putting on a fake smile, and trying to pretend he cared. He struggled to focus on the task at hand, getting on his robes without ripping them. He felt clumsy and unbalanced from his continuous lack of sleep. Not sleeping was the easy part, he couldn't sleep most of the time, it was just too difficult to sleep in the first place. Getting up and out, however, was proving to become significantly more difficult as the year wore on. Each day was agonizingly slow, each week was even longer, he didn't even want to think about it.  
"Ron," Harry called as he pushed aside the hangings that separated him from his roommates. He had pulled them closed halfway through the night, when he had heard Ron get up to go to the bathroom and didn't fancy getting caught staring at a strange piece of jewelry that had magically found it's way to his room. No, he didn't feel up to explaining it, it would just cause his friends to worry more, he didn't want them to be concerned. They had done so much for him already, they should really be happy.  
"Ron," Harry called again, realizing his roommate hadn't replied. "Ron?" He pulled aside the hangings of Ron's room, peering inside.  
Ron was lying on the bed, his head buried in the pillows, snoring lightly. His red hair shifted slightly with each breath he took, it looked more disheveled than usual. He had the blankets pulled up to his neck, but there was clearly a reddish-purple mark right there on his neck. Harry didn't need to take closer examination, he knew what it was. Ron had obviously forgotten to magically hide it the night before. Ron and Hermione had been 'secretly' dating since the beginning of the summer. However, they were the only ones who were under the impression that it was a secret, as half the school knew about it.  
Harry laughed to himself, pulling his hand through his own mussed hair unconsciously. "Ron, you prat, get up!" Harry shoved him slightly. He heard Ron breathe in again, and then out, just as evenly as before. This was going to take a bit more effort. Harry placed himself next to Ron, stepping closer to the bed, and said in a shrill voice, "Ronald Weasley! Get up this instant young man!"  
Ron jumped from his bed, looking around in wide-eyed horror, completely startled out of sleep. He spotted Harry, standing beside his bed with his hand on his side, smirking mock-evilly at him. "Harry!" He whined. "Why'd you do that? You could just give me a little shove and say 'Time to get up Ron!' But, no, you have to shout in my ear!" He shivered. "You sound exactly like my mother you know, it's scary."  
"Ron, you have obviously never tried to wake yourself up," Harry informed him, throwing the grumbling boy his robes and exiting the room, pulling the hangings closed behind him. "And if you go back to sleep," He continued as he heard Ron lay back down. "I will get Hermione to come in here." He heard Ron shoot out of bed and begin to fumble with his robes. That was always an effective threat, Hermione managed an even better impression of Mrs. Weasley and she was actually serious.  
Seconds later, a robed, de-hickeyed, and much more awake Ron stepped out from behind the hangings. "Well, come on Harry, we haven't got all day," He joked as Harry pulled him towards the Gryffindor common room.  
"No, we don't, we have Double Potions today, and I can just imagine Snape if we're late again. 'Thirty points from Gryffindor for being late! Next time it will be a detention Potter.'" He did a scarily good impression of the Potions Master the day before. "So, yes, breakfast now. Wouldn't want to keep Hermione waiting, would we?" He said slyly.  
Ron blushed bright-red, the tips of his ears burning in embarrassment. "What're you talking about?" He tried to cover up for himself and Hermione.  
"Don't be a twit, I'm your best friend. I know that there has been something going between you two on for quite a while now." Harry replied glancing sidelong at his friend.  
"Er... well... yes," Ron was trying to cover his blush with his arms by pretending to fix a stray hair. "How did you know?!" He finally gasped, exasperated, looking fully at his friend.  
"Ron, I'm your best mate! And so is Hermione, how could I not know?" Harry raised his eyebrow questioningly.  
"Well, I... erm... I guess we just didn't think that you would notice, you've been a bit, er, preoccupied lately." Ron replied, gazing at his friend worriedly.  
"Even I'm not that dense Ron, you sneak off every night!" Harry shot back, trying not to be offended by Ron's blatant statement. He hadn't been very observant lately, he had been preoccupied. He tried not to think of Sirus again, it didn't make it any better to think about these things, they couldn't be changed. 'Sirus,' Harry thought, sinking deeper into his mind. 'I'm so sorry... It's all my fault.' He felt guilty for letting himself not think about it the night before. The necklace and the mist had shocked him out of it for a while. At this thought he felt the cold metal against his skin warm up suddenly, as if it were trying to comfort him in some small way. It worked, Harry felt the grief subside a bit, and he realized that Ron was talking to him.  
"...so sorry we didn't tell you mate, we just weren't sure if it was going to work out, and we didn't want to bother you with that kind of thing after..." Ron was saying before Harry interrupted him.  
"It's okay Ron, I don't mind, I know it wasn't personal." Harry brushed off the apology, even if it did hurt a bit, it didn't matter. "However, you should know that..."  
"Ron!" Hermione came rushing up to her boyfriend, hugging him fiercely. She caught herself quickly and gave Harry a hug as well. "Harry!" She added, for effect. The entire common room rolled their eyes, when would these two figure out that it was not a secret?  
Harry glanced at Ron who was looking around the common room, seeing, for the first time, their reactions to Hermione when this happened. The tips of his ears turned bright red as he ducked his head into his robes. Hermione looked at him, concerned, and raised an eyebrow discreetly. He figured it out, finally. Hermione smiled a bit and then pulled his head from his robes. She kissed his cheek in front of the entire common room, this boy was as thick as they come, but she loved him anyway.  
Harry laughed, he hadn't thought that she knew, but then again, she was Hermione. He began to clap slowly, congratulating them on finally telling everyone what they already knew. Suddenly he heard another set of hands clapping, Seamus Finnigan was also laughing and clapping. The whole room was clapping by the end and even Ron was laughing, albeit a bit bashfully. He took Hermione's hand and made a magnificent bow before following Harry out of the common room and into the corridor.  
"Well, that was a surprise," Ron commented thoughtfully as he held Hermione's hand.  
Harry and Hermione looked at each-other and burst into a fit of giggles. "Ron," Harry gasped between laughs. "Even the Slytherins know by now, you prat!"  
"Oh..." Ron looked embarrassed again, as he watched the other people react to he and Hermione. They all had a knowing look on their face, although the reactions were different between Houses.  
"So, the Weasel and Mudblood are finally engaged?" A voice drawled behind them. "It would figure that a Pureblood like you would go and ruin it by marrying a mudblood like her. Couldn't you do better than that? She isn't even attractive!"  
"Malfoy..." Ron whirled on the shorter boy. Draco Malfoy's face was turned in his trademark sneer, daring Ron to say anything.  
"What, Weasel? What are you going to do? Stare at me until I crumble into dust?" Malfoy replied, smirking at the infamous trio.  
Ron turned redder than he had been moments ago in the common room. "Malfoy, I'm gonna..." He never finished his sentence.  
"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry interrupted him. He didn't feel like getting into this today. Malfoy was just trying to get them riled. He had been strangely quiet lately. Oh yes, his insults were thrown at them with as much vengeance as usual, but Harry could see through his carefully placed mask. He had been watching Malfou for years and there was no hateful gleam in the boy's eyes as of late. It must have had something to do with his father being imprisoned by the Ministry. He was nothing without his precious family name to hide behind. Without Lucius Malfoy, Draco was just a mean-hearted boy who had lost his father.  
Harry took Ron by the arm, and pulled him forcefully away. "Let's go," Harry said, it wasn't a request.  
"What Potter? Not up for a fight? Let Weasley fight his own battles." Malfoy sneered.  
"Yeah, Harry, what is going on? You love seeing Malfoy get pulverized." Ron looked at Harry.  
'Not today.' Harry thought to himself as he pulled again, harder, on Ron's arm. "He's not worth it Ron. Let's just go."  
Harry looked at Malfoy. Malfoy was, to say the least, a bit shocked that Harry was telling his friend not to kill him right then and there. Weasley wouldn't have had much trouble doing it at least. He was at least six inches taller than Draco, and was more heavily built. Draco considered this, not realizing that he was showing his confusion clearly. Why was Potter trying to protect him? Could he know? Of course not. Of course he couldn't know. Could he?  
Harry was watching the emotion flickering across Draco's face plainly. It was disconcerting to see the Draco Malfoy plainly showing his emotions for the world to see. In fact, it was highly intriguing. Harry watched and found that Malfoy was registering confusion above all other emotion. What was he confused about? Oh right, Harry had stopped Ron from nearly killing him. Malfoy suddenly looked worried, and jerked his head upright, meeting Harry's gaze for a moment before slamming down his mask again.  
"What Potter? See something you like?" How stupid! He had let Potter see him so clearly, it was highly upsetting. He hit on the one thing that he thought Potter might not like, after all, everyone knew now that Draco was gay. He had 'come out' the day after his father left. Or rather, Blaise Zambini had come out for him, telling everyone about their short-lived fling in the beginning of the 5th year. Nobody feared Draco as much without his father. That is, until he managed to curse Zabini with the help of a certain rare book of curses from his father's large library. He was getting confused again.  
He turned to Potter, intending to smirk. But his smirk was lost as he looked at Potter. The other boy was looking at him thoughtfully. He pulled Ron and Hermione away, and turned them towards the Great Hall. And then, Harry Potter did the unexpected; he turned around quickly and winked at Draco Malfoy.  
  
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	2. Confusing Calamity

Title: Draconis Angelicus Author: ScarletSerpent  
  
Disclaimer: All of Harry Potter belongs to the terribly brilliant J.K. Rowling. I would never be able to come up with such an amazing story on my own. It all belongs to her, she is my HERO!  
  
Rating: This is rated R for future chapters.  
  
Warnings: This, my friends, will be SLASH in the future. People, this means boylove. If you do not like that kind of thing, then this is not the story for you. Also there is warning of depression, which could get serious in future chapters. Again, this is all in future chapters.  
  
Summary: Harry is back at Hogwarts in his 6th year and he faces some of the most difficult challenges yet. He wakes up one night to another creature trying to sneak into his room. But, is this creature dangerous? And who is controlling it? Future SLASH. H/D in future. Please R&R!! Thank you so much!  
  
Chapter 2- Confusing Calamity  
  
Draco Malfoy lay staring at the ceiling of his dorm room in the Slytherin dungeons. He had used the excuse of being overtired from last night's exertion to get out of classes for the day, and had skipped lunch. However, he was starving. That spell had required far more energy than he had originally thought. No matter though, Harry had the talisman; that was everything. When Dumbledore had told him to watch out for Potter he had hardly thought that Malfoy would take it calmly. And he hadn't. Malfoy had stood in Dumbledore's office in utter shock for what seemed like hours, until Professor McGonagall slapped him smartly across the cheek and told him to 'stop doing such an impressively realistic impression of a goldfish.' He laughed slightly at the memory. Draco Malfoy was to protect his archrival. It was too much for him to take in at once. But, Draco realized, what else could he do of importance? He knew that his father would tell You-Know-Who about what his son had done and that ruined any chance of acceptance from the Dark, not that he particularly wanted acceptance anyway.  
  
Draco shivered; he was not going to think about the man he had once admiringly called his father. Draco considered himself to have "disowned" his father when the Aurors had finally taken him away. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for his mother, she loved her husband, and loved the Dark Arts themselves. Narcissa was furious when she had discovered of her husband's capture. When her son had so calmly told her that he was leaving for Hogwarts for the summer in June, she had snapped. Draco suppressed a shudder threatening to remind him of his scars. His mother had shown her true colors in those moments, taking out his father's expensive dragon hide whip (used so many times on Draco as a child) and smiling demonically at him. He could still hear her screams as the Aurors dragged her away to join her husband in Azkaban.  
  
Draco found himself wondering what had become of his old self. He was not the feared Draco Malfoy anymore, and yet he held more respect for himself. Draco shook himself mentally; he was beginning to sound like one of those Do-Gooder-Let's-Follow-The-Crazy-Old-Bat-Blindly Gryffindors. What a bunch of poppycock, more respect for his own self, he was only important because he had to protect Potter.  
  
Potter. What was going on with him anyway? The boy had clearly stopped Weasel from killing him on the spot. What was going on? Was this some kind of joke? And then he had winked. He looked kind of cute when he winked. Oh. My. God. Had he just thought that? No, no he had not, you cannot get attached to the person who you are supposed to be protecting without them even knowing. But, then again, how was that really possible? Damn Dumbledore. He had intended for this to happen and Draco knew it.  
  
'Well,' He thought to himself as he recalled the morning's events. 'Potter is protecting me while I'm protecting him. Ironic really.'  
  
He forced his thoughts away from Potter and his newfound 'attraction' to the other boy. Last night's spell had taken its' toll on Draco, his energy and magic were nearly spent, or at least, they should have been. But strangely enough, Draco had awoken feeling rather refreshed after the spell, remembering that Potter had deflected it somehow before he had completed the transformation. He was going to have to figure out how Potter had managed that; only the caster was supposed to be able to send the figure away. Then again, Potter was anything but transparent these days.  
  
'He winked at me!' Draco moaned to himself.  
  
'And you liked it too,' A voice said in the back of his head.  
  
'No, no I did not. It's just that I'm tired from the spell; it must be a side effect,' The more logical side of him countered.  
  
'That is bullshit and you know it,' the voice retorted. 'You even checked him out as he was waltzing away. He does have a nice arse.'  
  
'No! I did no such thing!' Draco was panicking, had he been checking Potter out?! Without even realizing it?! This was not happening.  
  
'Liar, you are a terrible liar you know.'  
  
'Am not.'  
  
'Are too.'  
  
'Am not!!'  
  
'Look, it doesn't matter. Either way, you were checking him out. You like him and you know it,' The voice in the back of his head sneered at him.  
  
'It is not fair to use my own sneer against me!' Draco was fumbling for anything to get it across to the other part of him: He was not falling for Harry Potter.  
  
'Is too, I am still a part of you. And besides, you are falling for him. Just deal with it, the worst that can happen is...'  
  
'You will not complete that thought...' He tried to force the little voice away, but failed miserably because he was morbidly curious about it all.  
  
'He could reject you,' It replied. 'But, that won't happen.'  
  
'And, why is that?'  
  
'Because he is curious, he likes you too you prat!'  
  
'Did I just call myself a prat?'  
  
'Yes, yes I believe you did.'  
  
'That is weird. I think I am either in need of sleep or some serious mental help.'  
  
'Yes, maybe the latter would help you get out of your blatant denial.'  
  
'Shut up.'  
  
'Okay.'  
  
Draco sighed; he had definitely just had a conversation with himself. He was checking out Potter, Harry Bloody Potter. So much for protecting him, he decided to inform Dumbledore of his change in heart; he couldn't do this if he was lusting after his charge. Gods, what would Potter have to say to that? Draco shuddered at the thought. Besides, he wasn't "lusting" over him. He sighed again, this was going to have to wait until he was feeling a bit clearer in the head.  
  
"Draco?" A thick, deep voice came from outside the private room he had acquired over his summer stay at Hogwarts.  
  
"Yes Greg?" Draco replied evenly, standing and smoothing his robes. He knew that it was time for dinner in the Great Hall. But, after the whole day of seeing Potter he wasn't sure that he could do it again. 'Oh, suck it up, you're a Malfoy,' Came from somewhere inside of his head. 'But, I don't want to be a Malfoy.' This thought surprised him, he didn't want to be a Malfoy. He would have to consider it later.  
  
"Time for supper," Came Greg's reply from behind the door.  
  
"Yes," Draco opened the door, sweeping out of his room with what he hoped was confidence; Gregory and Vincent following in his wake. He still couldn't believe that the two of them were so openly stupid. How could they possibly not see that he was no longer the powerful and feared Draco Malfoy that they had always known? Didn't they see that if they were with him they were automatic outcasts? How thick of them.  
  
Malfoy stopped outside the Great Hall, preparing himself for seeing the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Wink-At-A-Malfoy. He snickered at his wit, and attempted to collect himself, failing miserably at the first picture of Potter that sprang to mind. He waved Gregory and Vincent on into the Hall, this was going to take a bit more collecting than he had thought. In fact, this was going to be a long supper.  
  
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Well, Ron and Hermione had shot undeniably worried looks at Harry after the incident with Malfoy. He knew that they hadn't seen him wink at Malfoy suggestively. He had only done it at the time to make Malfoy uncomfortable, but had succeeded to confuse himself further. Had he only done it because he wanted to see Malfoy squirm? This was ridiculous, why else would he have winked at him? Because he thought it was terribly cute when Malfoy blushed when he had realized that Harry could read him like an open book? Wow, where had that thought come from?  
  
'Oh my...' Harry thought to himself as he entered the Potions classroom followed by his concerned friends. 'This is not happening.' He had just said that something Malfoy had done was cute. That was strange. Okay, that was a little bit more than strange. Harry looked around, only to find the 'Mysterious-Malfoy' missing. He hadn't shown up to breakfast either. Yet another strange thing to add to this already terribly strange day.  
  
"Class, today we will be making..." Snape began his early morning lecture. Harry took this opportunity to look interested and let his mind wander completely. 'Okay, there is no point in denying it; I think that Draco Malfoy is attractive. That is a change in a lot of things.'  
  
Harry hadn't even realized that he was attracted to boys. The more he thought on it the more it made perfect sense. He had always felt so uncomfortable around Cho, it was such a... a... 'shallow' feeling. Dredging up the memories, he remembered looking at other boys' assets admiringly, or a bit more than that, he realized. He had been looking at them, checking them out, without even realizing it! Harry completely forgot where he was and buried his head in his arms.  
  
"Potter," Snape began. "Catching up on your beauty rest are we? Ten points from Gryffindor for falling asleep in class." Snape turned on his heel and began to walk away from his table.  
  
"I wasn't sleeping," Harry said clearly.  
  
"Excuse me, Mr. Potter, but I don't believe that I asked if you were. Another ten points for talking back to a professor." Snape looked abashed, Potter was openly opposing him.  
  
"I don't care if you asked or not, you were misinformed if you thought I was going to just sit there and take it! I was NOT sleeping and you know it!" Harry virtually shouted, standing and knocking over a vial of salamander eye juice. The entire class was looking on with morbid curiosity. What was Harry doing?  
  
Snape looked horrified for a moment, but regained his composure quickly. "Thirty points from Gryffindor for talking that way to a professor. You know Potter, being a celebrity in my class does not excuse such detestable behaviour." Snape seethed, turning a dark shade of purple. Harry fancied that he looked a bit like Uncle Vernon when he was terribly angry. But that was beside the point.  
  
"Fine, 'thirty points from Gryffindor,'" He mimicked Snape. "Is that the best you can come up with? And," He added cattily. "You know, you're turning a shade that I only thought rotten eggplant could attain. Congratulations."  
  
Everyone was silent, and a fly buzzed in the back of the room. Snape glared at Harry and then at the fly, casting a curse on it to make it shut up. He looked back at Harry menacingly, "Another thirty points from Gryffindor. You are losing your House the Cup as we speak. I'm sure that Slytherin will thank you. You might even get a trophy in your honour: 'To Harry Potter, Son of the Idiot Potter: This toilet trophy..."  
  
Harry failed to hear the rest; he was seeing red. How dare that slimy, greasy, hairball git talk that way about his father! He cut the Professor off sharply, "That idiot saved your life. He is more honourable than you will ever be you slimy, greasy, hairball git!"  
  
Now it was Snape's turn to see red, actually it was more the color of his face, which had escalated to dark purple/red blotches staining his upper cheeks, the rest of his face becoming sharply pale in contrast. "FIFTY POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!" Professor Snape roared, losing control completely. "GET OUT OF MY CLASS YOU FILTHY, BLITHERING BRAT! GET OUT NOW!"  
  
"I will," Harry replied evenly, glaring at the Professor. He gathered his cauldron and books and headed for the door. "My father will always be more honourable than you. So, I say this for him and perhaps a bit for myself: Fuck. You." He spat as he exited the room. Everyone in the room avoided looking after him, Snape was practically shaking with anger. But one Hermione Granger's eyes followed the dark-haired boy until the door slammed behind him. 'I hope he's okay,' she thought as Snape made his way to the front of the room again, fuming and muttering something that sounded remarkably like 'Scrubbing toilets for the rest of eternity.' The class winced as he bellowed "WHAT?! Get back to work you twits!" And so, they did.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A while later Harry had made his way down from the Gryffindor Tower, still angry. What right did that man have to hold a grudge against him anyway? It wasn't his fault. He had sulked in his dorm for a while about it, and then gave it up as a lost cause. He didn't need Potions anyway; he would just fail abominably as usual. Although; Snape had done an excellent Vernon Dursley back there. Harry smiled at this, but it turned to a scowl shortly there-after.  
  
Skipping class wasn't usually Harry's idea of a good time, but he decided that today he had had enough of class. He grabbed his Firebolt and jogged out to the Quidditch pitch, warming up his muscles. He flew for hours, pushing the Slimy-Git-Who-Was-No-Longer-Worthy- Of- A- Name out of his head, choosing instead to reflect on what had transpired between he and Malfoy earlier that day. Something was definitely different about Malfoy this year. He wasn't being as much of an insufferable git to Harry and his friends; even the Slytherins seemed to have abandoned him. All of his insults lacked conviction; he wasn't even trying. Yes, something had changed over the summer. Everything had changed, even Harry.  
  
'So,' Harry thought to himself as he swooped above the grounds. 'This has been the most fantastic day all year... Not counting the day Sirius disappeared into that... Oh God... Sirius.' Harry went higher; the water in his eyes rising as the wind tackled his face fiercely, forcing the tears that threatened to fall. High above the clouds, Harry looked around himself. The clouds swirled about his dangling feet, wispy and wet, chilling his feet through his shoes.  
The clouds reminded Harry of the mist. That elusive mist from last night, what was that all about anyway? He had pondered this all through the night, glad for a preoccupation from his usual boredom. Sure, he had the invisibility cloak, but there were only so many amusing things to do with such a possession after a while. Yes, the mist and its talisman were quite a welcome distraction. Now that Harry had his wits about him he could fully recollect the strange occurrence, and he brought himself to the conclusion that the 'mist creature' (as he had dubbed it after failing to discover what it was) might not, in fact, have been trying to hurt him. The wind in its creation had been violent, yes, but it had made no movement towards him. This made the talisman easier to accept, almost believing that the creature had meant him no harm.  
  
But, what was the purpose of such a valuable jewel, and why was it given to him?  
  
As he lowered his broom to the ground he found himself face to face with a very angry Professor McGonagall. "What do you think that you are doing, Mr. Potter?" She asked, her voice clipped and to the point.  
  
"I was flying Professor." Harry replied as innocently as possible.  
  
"I was referring to the fact that you were skipping class Mr. Potter," McGonagall intoned dryly, looking down at her student through her spectacles. He was obviously having a tough year, and something was going on. But, of course, Albus insisted on letting Harry handle it himself. "Mr. Potter, you will be serving detention for a week for skipping class. I will give you the further details at a later date. However, I do not know what Professor Snape has in mind for you after your rather, colorful, exit."  
  
"I refuse to do anything for that slimy gi..." Harry bristled at the mention of the Potions Master.  
  
"Mr. Potter! He may be a.. er... git..." His Head of House stumbled a bit over the phrase, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks. She collected herself and continued steadily, "But he is still a Professor here at Hogwarts. I am afraid I will have to deduct 5 House points for your language, and another 20 for having skipped class. Next time, and I suggest that there is not one, the punishment will be far more severe. Do you understand, Mr. Potter?" She gave him a rather strained, but meaningful 'look'.  
  
"Yes," was Harry's reply. He stalked off angrily. Detention! He didn't even care that he had just lost his house over a hundred points in one day. As he walked back towards the castle, he felt the necklace warming against his chest. He had completely forgotten about it while conversing with McGonagall. This was becoming ridiculous.  
  
He had winked at Malfoy, which in itself was a mystery. Why in the world would Harry Potter wink at his nemesis? In fact, it was just as much a mystery to Harry as it was to Malfoy, the 'wink-ee'. Harry snickered to himself 'wink-ee and winker.' Malfoy was a 'wink-ee'; that just sounded funny. Focusing himself, he continued his train of thought, if in a slightly better mood. It was just a spur of the moment idea, he didn't actually see something he liked in Malfoy of all people. He shuddered at the thought, he and Malfoy? It was craziness; all his earlier thoughts must be after-effects of his lack of sleep for the past few weeks. Maybe it was just catching up to him.  
  
'Well,' he thought as he headed back up to the castle, and pushed through the doors, fully intending to go to the Great Hall for dinner. 'No need to worry about it, it's not like it matters.' He found himself running to let out his still pent-up energy, everyone else was bound to be at dinner anyhow.  
  
'Well, almost everyone that is,' he corrected himself as he crashed into a figure in front of the doors of the Great Hall. He lifted himself so he could see the unfortunate recipient of his head-on collision. He caught sight of a few wisps of blonde silvery hair, shading a pair of absolutely gorgeous silver eyes and found himself gazing into them before promptly passing out. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
'Oh shit...' Draco felt himself being ploughed into the hard marble floor from the side. He landed back first, sending a shot of pain up his spine, his attacker landing squarely on top of him. 'This is really Potter's job, making such foolish blunders.' Draco thought to himself as he blearily opened one eye so he could bash the clumsy person's head in after he got out from underneath them. He looked up, craning his neck slightly, stupidly assuming that he wasn't all that badly hurt after all and moving a bit more and wincing at the lance of pain through his spine again. He glanced upwards again, only to see two great orbs of emerald green gazing down at him. For a moment all stood still, and he drank in the intensity of those beautiful eyes. He wondered momentarily whose eyes they were, and the moment broke.  
  
He felt the dead weight upon his chest and knew that Potter had passed out. Potter, it figured; hadn't he said that it was really Potter's job to create such a ruckus. It really made him wonder why he bothered in protecting him at all. Then he recalled that he never wanted to see his father again if it could be helped, and if there was anyone to protect him from Lucius Malfoy and the Dark Lord, it was Harry Potter. Yes, that was why. Though, at this rate the boy would be dead within a fortnight; he was a walking, talking, disaster just waiting to strike. He wondered briefly if Potter had a death wish or if it was just bad luck. Draco snickered at this; the thought of the Golden-Boy having a death wish was really priceless.  
  
He was shaken into awareness of his surroundings when he heard the voices emanating from the Great Hall. 'Ahh, okay, let's see... I have Potter on top of me, passed out, my spine is killing me, and I am extremely turned on.' Wait... did he just say that he was turned on? Then he felt it, the telltale heat flowing to his groin at an alarming rate. Maybe he had a masochistic streak or something. Oh honestly, best to get him off before he wakes up to find...  
  
"Malfoy?" Harry opened an eye groggily.  
  
Too late, oh well, hopefully he wouldn't noti...  
  
"Malfoy? What is that?" Harry's eyes opened, cloudy with confusion.  
  
"What is what Potter?" Draco cursed himself several times over, willing his obvious erection away in vain.  
  
"What is pressing into my leg?" Harry asked slowly.  
  
"I have no idea Potter, why don't you just go and have a look-see. Oh right, because you're on top of me and you can't." Draco poured on the sarcasm, panicking for real. What Potter didn't know couldn't hurt him.  
  
Harry blushed, pink staining his cheeks as he attempted to stand. His attempt failed miserably and he landed back on Draco full force. Draco barely suppressed a groan from the pressure. This was going to be a bit tougher than it needed to be. He looked up at Potter, only to find a familiar object dangling inches above his face. Harry was wearing the talisman! Well obviously; it did have several attraction charms on it, even Harry Potter couldn't resist wearing the thing. He suddenly realized something... if Harry was hurt then he would know, he would know without a doubt and he would feel the pain. Well, he would feel it if the twin charm to Harry's was around his neck as well. Shit, it was in his robes. 'Stupid charm,' Draco thought to himself. 'Only this thing can make the connection. I don't see why Dumbledore couldn't have just done a semi-permanent tattoo or something. Now that would be cool.' He reached down carefully, extracting the object from near his chest also grabbing a tissue. He wouldn't want it to seem as if he were just randomly grabbing nothing out of his robes. 'This invisibility charm is handy,' He thought randomly as he took the tissue into his hands. Harry was looking down at him with curiosity.  
  
Draco ignored Harry's gaze and focused his energy on the similar talisman in his hand. He felt the heat emanating from the glassy object and then the immediate connection to Potter. He concentrated on the bodily systems and noted that there would be no permanent damage, but that Potter was still in pain in his stomach, where Draco had accidentally elbowed him on the way down. Serves him right, the twit! What was he doing running into people anyway? Oh well, it was no matter. He also found that Potter had fractured his right knee, which had hit the ground with the boy's full body weight. Draco also sensed an underlying emotion that was extremely strong, to the point that Draco could almost feel it unintentionally. Dumbledore had enchanted the thing so that the bond was purely physical and had told Draco so. This emotion had to be strong to get past the barriers Dumbledore had created. Draco shook himself mentally as Potter squirmed around on top of him, reminding Draco of his presence and inadvertently became a reminder of a certain feeling in his groin that needed to be quickly remedied.  
  
"Potter, how about we try this again? You push up with your arms, I assume they're not hurt?" Draco looked at him for confirmation (just for show, as he knew exactly what parts of Harry were hurting), at Potter's weak nod he continued, "Good then. You push up and I will slide out from underneath you, I am hardly hurt really." He lied; the pain in his spine was intensifying as he moved about underneath the heavier boy. He couldn't do anything for the dark haired boy without his wand, even with the connection in full.  
  
Harry eyed him suspiciously, and then nodded his consent and pushed up, managing to get himself half a foot above Draco. Draco breathed in his first full lungful of air in what seemed like hours, taking pleasure in the feeling of the air fully filling him. At the sound of a pained sigh from above him he looked up at Potter who was shaking alarmingly, his arms looked ready to give out. Draco quickly slid out from beneath the quivering boy and kneeled, arms outstretched, just in time to catch the exhausted form of Harry.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Hey everyone! I realized, after I updated, that I had left the reviewer thank-you's out of the part that I uploaded... Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!!!! There is no excuse good enough to have forgotten! :-( Well, here they are... Sorry again!  
  
Miss Lesley- Thank you so much for your support! Yes, Draco is a bit OOC in here, he really does need to start working on covering up his emotions better. To be honest I'm not really sure where I want the story to go, I am completely winging it. So, we shall see what happens when it happens! I am open to any suggestions! Thanks so much for reviewing, it means a lot!  
  
Draconigena Diligio- Lol, thanks for reviewing hun, it means a bunch to me. And, well, you know a bit more about the talisman now; it is a direct link between Harry and Draco. That's about it... or is it? Dun, dun, duuuuun... Hehe! Well, thanks a million for being a beta for me!! And thanks for reviewing! Yay! :-P Lylabffe.  
  
Lady Jam- Thank you!! I'm glad you think it's cute, :-) I like cute stories. Yes, I plan to continue this story, as far as my imagination can take it that is. I just hope my muses don't run out on me any time soon. I'm open to any suggestions you have about the story, where it should go, etc. Thank you a million for reviewing, I love reviews!  
  
Thanks for reviewing guys!  
  
~Scarletserpent 


	3. Babysitting the BoyWhoLived

Title: Draconis Angelicus  
  
Author: Scarletserpent  
  
Warnings: This is SLASH... in the future. So, if guys fancying guys is not your thing, then I suggest you do not read my story. That is all I have to say on the matter.  
  
Disclaimer: All characters, places, things, etc. down to the tiniest rock of the magical world belong to the genius, JK Rowling.  
  
A/N: THANK YOU TO GABZ FOR BEING THE MOST AWESOME BETA EVER!!! :-)

Reviewer thank-you at the bottom! Thanks to those who reviewed! Please review! I will love you forever I swear! :-) I am not sure if I am prepared to continue this story so please review and give me your input! I will continue at a few more reviews.  
  
Chapter 3- Babysitting the Boy-Who-Lived  
  
Muffled voices were intruding on Harry's perfectly sound sleep a few hours later. He turned on his side, attempting, in vain, to rid himself of the bothersome noise. A few minutes later he gave up. He didn't really know how he had gotten to sleep anyway, but he was thankful. Sighing, he opened one eye blearily, fully expecting to find himself in his dormitory and the rest of his bunkmates getting ready for breakfast. Well, he got one part right at least.  
  
What greeted his eyes were the concerned faces of Ron and Hermione looking down on him. The two were sitting on the edge of his bed, their eyes boring holes in his head. And was it his imagination, or was it dark? Why were Ron and Hermione looking at him like that anyway? What was going on? His eyes snapped fully open.  
  
"Harry?" Hermione ventured. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Er... fine?" Harry replied, curious as to why she asked. "Why?"  
  
"Harry, you weren't in class all day! You even missed dinner! And we come back to find you completely passed out on your bed after Malfoy said he had seen you heading up towards the Tower..."  
  
Harry missed the rest of what Ron was saying as he fully recalled the events that had transpired a few hours before. He had crashed head-on into Malfoy on his way to the Great Hall. He had seen those beautiful eyes and... Oh, right, he had passed out and then... What had happened? His mind was a bit fuzzy after that. He was certain that something had happened after that that he should remember, but he just couldn't quite put his finger on it. Wait... he remembered something about his leg, yes, there was something poking into his leg. Actually, whatever it was had been quite hard and uncomfortable; it must have been his wand. And then, right, then Malfoy had pulled a tissue out of his robes; he was such a vain prick. Couldn't muss up his face a bit before they had gotten out of such a painful position.  
  
That was when Harry noticed that he was not in any way in pain. He moved a bit to test it, but felt no sharp pain in his stomach or his knee, and he had been sure that it was at least fractured, if not split in two from the pain he had felt. Harry deciphered that he must have passed out after exerting himself to such an extent getting Malfoy out from under him. Well, that made Harry getting back into his bed much less easy to explain. Firstly, how had he gotten there if he was unconscious and in dire pain? Well, the answer had to be Malfoy. But, why hadn't the git just taken him to the Infirmary? He must have gone there, or how else would he have been healed so thoroughly? But he had never, in all his 6 years attending Hogwarts, been taken back to his dormitory after being healed. This was perplexing.  
  
"Harry? Are you okay?" Ron was waving a large, freckled hand in front of Harry's unfocused eyes.  
  
Harry woke up immediately, "Of course! I'm just a bit tired, that's all. You guys don't need to be concerned."  
  
"Are you sure, Harry? I mean, you look a bit peaky... Perhaps you should..." Hermione tried.  
  
"Go to Madame Pomfrey? No... I am fine Hermione. Ron, I am fine. I just need some sleep." Harry told the two of them firmly, clearly ending any further conversation. He really needed some time to think about what was going on.  
  
"Okay mate, if you're sure." Ron looked at him with concern before getting off the bed and stretching. He held his hand out to Hermione.  
  
"We don't have Prefect duties tonight Harry. So, if you need us then just let us know." Hermione didn't look at all convinced, but allowed Ron to pull her to her feet and to the hangings.  
  
"Oh no, wouldn't want to be an 'inconvenience' on your night off..." Harry replied, suggestively raising one eyebrow at the pair.  
  
Ron blushed and Hermione put her hands on her hips and gave him a suggestive look right back. Ron pulled her out from the hangings around Harry's bed and gave her an incredulous look before pulling her towards the Common Room to play a game of Exploding Snap before 'bed'.  
  
Harry heard their retreating footsteps and let out a small sigh of relief, sinking into his pillows as far as possible. He knew very well that Hermione and Ron would have said something about him being in the Infirmary or about someone healing him. Someone had to have healed him as well. He pulled up his flannel pyjama top to check for bruising from Malfoy's sharp elbow jabbing him. Well, that was that, there would have been a bruise there, no doubt, unless someone had healed him. There was only one realistic option, and that was just as crazy as the rest; Malfoy wouldn't do that for him. Malfoy hated Harry.  
  
He sighed again and turned over onto his stomach, stretching out his arms under the pillow. As he reached he felt something cold and glass-like at the tips of his fingers. What was under his pillow? He hadn't put anything there the night before. Good Gods! This was getting more and more mysterious and complicated as the night went on. His fingers closed around the glass and he pulled it out from beneath the pillow, noticing immediately that it had something attached to it.  
  
Harry groped for his glasses on his bedside, he could see that it had a piece of paper with writing, but couldn't read it. He placed his glasses on his nose and examined the paper quickly. It was written in a fancy, flowing, and ridiculously neat script. It read:  
  
Potter,  
  
If you intend on staying alive, I would suggest not running into innocent  
persons, such as myself... particularly myself, in the halls. This is a Dreamless Sleep potion. I must say that the dark circles under your eyes are becoming more prominent as the days wear on, and it is not a good look for you. No, it is not poisoned. If you do not drink this, I will know, and  
I will just have to slip it to you in your Pumpkin Juice like a baby.  
There's a good boy, Potter. (Harry could hear the intended sneer)  
  
D.M.  
  
Well, that was certainly like the snotty boy Harry knew and hated. Or did he? Oh, this was just getting to be too much. So, it must have been Malfoy who healed him and brought him back here. But, there was one problem with that as well; how had Malfoy gotten him into his dormitory? He didn't know the Gryffindor password. Harry's head spun as the thoughts swirled about, making him a tad dizzy. He lay back down, furrowing his eyebrows a bit as he tried to organise his thoughts into something; anything, at all.  
  
After a few minutes he had discerned that yes, Malfoy had been the one to carry him up here. After all, he had the note and potion, and Ron and Hermione wouldn't have put anything from Malfoy under his pillow. In fact, they would have told Dumbledore and called St. Mungo's, because Draco Malfoy cared how much Harry slept, no matter how snide the way he showed it. That, in itself, was enough to send the two of them over the edge. It was nearly enough for Harry. He had managed to convince himself, however, that Malfoy didn't actually care about him, and that it was just because the git finally acquired a conscience somewhere along the line. Ron and Hermione had also said that Malfoy told them that he had seen Harry going up towards the Gryffindor Tower, which was a blatant lie. All of this summed it up: Malfoy had done it.  
  
Harry looked suspiciously at the vial in his hands; could he trust Malfoy not to have poisoned him? Well, it wasn't as if Malfoy hadn't had the chance to kill Harry several times that day. Harry decided to chance the potion because Malfoy was right; he needed sleep. He downed half the vial and took his glasses off, placing both at his bedside. His last conscious thought before sleep claimed him was: 'G'night Malfoy.' And his body and mind were too tired to protest this time.  
  
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Draco made his way down to the Great Hall after a tiring half-hour of work. He sighed, putting his wand securely back into his robes. He was just in time to catch the last ten minutes of dinner and he was famished. Healing magic had a tendency to wipe him out completely. Looking over at the Gryffindor table he spotted Granger and the Weasel looking at the door expectantly, and not a little bit worried. When they spotted him, the Weasel's eyes narrowed and Granger stood up. Weasel looked up at his precious girlfriend, apparently trying to convince her not to speak with Draco. But, as Weasel should have known, the girl was not to be persuaded out of it. She would just have to face big bad Draco Malfoy.  
  
Granger walked towards him, her eyebrows furrowed, looking at Draco suspiciously. She motioned towards the doors. Draco sighed mentally, 'Well, there went dinner.' He followed her out the doors and into the hall.  
  
"What have you done with Harry?" Granger whirled on him as soon as they had exited the Great Hall fully.  
  
Well, she didn't waste any time, did she? "Hello Malfoy, how was your day? You look tired, like you haven't eaten." He understood her concern, but there was no need to be rude about it.  
  
"I don't have time for silly games, Malfoy. Have you seen Harry?" She asked firmly. She was not to be swayed from the topic.  
  
Draco was prepared for this, however, and sneered at her, "What? Precious Potter gone missing?"  
  
"Yes, we haven't seen you all day. And we haven't seen him since that dreadful Potions class this morning." Granger shivered.  
  
"It wouldn't be so 'dreadful' if you weren't such a lot of half-wits, now would it?"  
  
"Usually, I would get angry at that remark Malfoy. But this time, even you can't argue, it wasn't Harry's fault until he started yelling. Stupid idiot." She said, more to herself than to Draco.  
  
"What did Potter do this time? Provoke a Slytherin? Naughty, naughty," Draco taunted. What was this about Potter in Potions?  
  
Hermione sighed in defeat, slouching a bit more; Harry's escapades were taking their toll on her. "Professor Snape took more points from Gryffindor, saying Harry had been sleeping in class, which he hadn't, and Harry just... I've never seen him like that before. He completely lost it. I don't know what happened. I mean, Snape is a jerk all the time, he always has been. Why this time? Poor Harry. You can just imagine what happened after Harry actually talked back. Gryffindor lost over 100 points in a matter of five minutes and Harry stormed out... We haven't seen him since." She looked miserable.  
  
"I saw him walking to the Gryffindor Tower a few minutes ago. He looked perfectly fine to me." Draco spoke to Hermione kindly for the first time in six years. This was a day for the records.  
  
Hermione looked up at him, surprised, and said, "Thank you. I'm beginning to think you might be human Draco Malfoy."  
  
"Don't be thinking that too quickly now, Mudblood. I am still superior to you and all Half-blooded half-wits." Draco responded automatically. He watched as she glared at him and stalked off, no doubt in search of her precious Weasley to comfort her. Stupid couples. Draco scowled and headed towards Dumbledore's office.  
  
'Stupid prat!! He really does have a death wish! No one with half a brain would cross Snape! Gods! Either that boy is incredibly stupid, or incredibly brave.' Draco thought to himself as he approached the doorway.  
  
"Fizzing Whizbee," He said offhandedly as he pondered yet another issue. He had been nice to Granger. That was certainly something new and, well, different. Honestly, he had no idea why he had been almost compassionate to the Mudblood. Yes, Draco still held firmly to the belief that Purebloods were the only true kind of wizard. So, shouldn't he have been on Voldemort's side? No, he would never be on the same side as that bastard who dared call himself a father. Years of blindly following a man that valued his public face more than his own son had taught Draco something: You can't trust anyone to be who they say they are. How many times could Draco count had his father told Draco to 'be a Malfoy! Be honourable!' and then turned and done something completely despicable afterwards? No, that man had no honour; he had nothing.  
  
Draco scowled to himself as he knocked three times on the door to Dumbledore's office. It was all because of his father that he was here, playing babysitter for Potter and his gang of Goody-Goodies. 'Stupid, trustful, blind idiots they are...' Draco thought to himself.  
  
"Come in my boy," Dumbledore appeared, opening the door from the other side. Draco stepped inside, looking about himself briefly. Did the Headmaster's office change every day? Every time he had been to Dumbledore's office to 'chat' there had been a different theme to the spacious room. He wondered if this was a recent hobby of Dumbledore's, and if so, didn't the professor have more prominent issues to deal with? Today he stepped into a fantastic forest. There was grass beneath his feet, covered in leaves of all sorts and colors. Trees off to the side, and around various parts of the room, hid from view the bookcases and various cabinets that Draco knew were there. The leaves glimmered with a quality that could only be referred to as 'magical'. Draco snorted at this thought, of course they were magic-made trees; only two days before there had been the equivalent of the Sahara Desert inside. It wasn't as if Dumbledore would have had Hagrid drag all the trees up from the Forbidden Forest. In Draco's opinion, the man was far too kind for his own good.  
  
He looked up to see the Headmaster smiling down at him, a distinct (and somewhat unsettling to Draco) twinkle in his eye. The old man motioned towards his desk, it's legs coated in a thick, slimy looking moss. Draco eyed the chair in front of it warily, for it too was covered in that lush moss. He wondered if it was real. Taking a chance, he felt the chair, pushing it a bit and pulling back as if it had bitten him. The moss was most certainly real, but it was dry and soft to the touch. Draco found this to be extremely disconcerting and threw the Headmaster a questioning look; after all, he didn't want his robes to stain.  
  
"It won't stain your robes, Mr. Malfoy, it is enchanted to stay dry. Care for a lemon drop?" Professor Dumbledore asked, innocently holding out a bowl of small, lemon candies to the boy.  
  
Draco shook his head, what was a lemon drop? Probably some kind of Muggle poison or something, crazy old bat. Draco shivered, and spoke to Dumbledore, "I'm sure you heard about the Potions incident earlier today; I can't say that I was there to see such a spectacular suicidal attempt by Potter." He intoned dryly, looking at the Professor inquisitively.  
  
Dumbledore seemed unfazed, "Yes, I had heard about Mr. Potter's 'outburst' in class earlier today. Should I be concerned about it?"  
  
'Yes, you idiot,' Draco thought to himself, but chose to say some thing a bit more subtle, "Well, sir, I'm not sure that I am 'prepared' to take on such an assignment as protecting a person who has a DEATH WISH!" Oops, so much for subtlety.  
  
Dumbledore peered at the boy over his spectacles, that maddening twinkle gleaming. "Death wish, you say?"  
  
"Yes," Draco calmed himself a bit before continuing. "No one who has the will to live would cross Professor Snape, let alone make fun of him."  
  
"Is that so?"  
  
"I believe so," Draco thought a minute, then added, "Sir?"  
  
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
"Why exactly does Severus dislike Potter?" Draco chose his words carefully.  
  
"Well, Mr. Malfoy, why don't you ask him that question? I'm sure that he is far more knowledgeable on that subject than myself."  
  
"Because I, unlike Potter, do not wish to die at the hands of my Potions professor."  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "So, Mr. Malfoy, what is it that you wish to do about Mr. Potter having, as you say, a 'death wish'."  
  
Draco looked at the older man inquisitively, he wouldn't actually let him off of having to babysit Potter, would he? "Well, sir, I suppose... well..." He was at a loss. There wasn't anything for him to do of any importance other than watch the other boy. He scowled to himself.  
  
"Well, Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
"Nothing, I will continue to babysit Potter."  
  
Dumbledore didn't look at all surprised. "Well then, Mr. Malfoy, I believe that is a fantastic choice. Now, if there is nothing else you wish to discuss..." He motioned towards the door.  
  
"Thank you, Professor." Draco left the office, his head full of thoughts of Potter. What was it about Harry Potter that made everyone so willing to help him anyway?  
  
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A/N: Ahh, alas, the boring author notes at the end. Well, I have a vague idea of where this story is headed, any insight would be appreciated. You can review or email me (my address is on my author page). Thank you!!  
  
Reviewer thank-you: Erin- Thank you sooooo much for reviewing! I really needed a bit of an ego- boost when no one else reviewed! I'm glad you liked Draco's conversation with himself... I have to say that it is my favorite part. Thanks again!


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